Page 14 of Perfect Storm (Toronto Thunder #1)

Levi had been playing in the NFL for six years now, but he still felt like a rookie every time he stepped out onto the practice field for the first time at camp.

That feeling, like he still didn’t quite know what he was doing, was exacerbated by the fact this wasn’t Seattle, and all the guys he was currently heading towards were new to him.

He’d already been added to the lineman group chat, and he’d met a handful of them, in passing and at different NFL events, including the center, Griff Michaels, and the starting left tackle, Ross Acker, at the Pro Bowl last year.

“Hey, guys,” Levi said, jogging over to where they all stood together in a loose circle, weak sunshine shining on him.

He’d say this about Toronto—so far, the weather wasn’t that much different than Seattle.

But everyone kept warning him that the fake summer would, in a few months, give way to some truly shitty and cold weather. That would be different than Seattle.

Landry had already texted him twice, making sure that he’d brought his small stock of winter gear with him to Toronto.

Like he was going to leave it at home when he was moving to Toronto?

“Banks, good to see you,” Griff said, pulling him in for a quick hug. Levi made the rounds, greeting all the guys, including Ross, who, as Levi expected, gave him a bit of a cold shoulder.

Levi could play both sides—but he personally thought he was better at left tackle, even though he’d spent most of his time in Seattle on the right side.

The coaching staff, while giving him the standard greetings when he’d signed, hadn’t said anything about him taking Acker’s spot on the left, but he’d watched some film, over the summer, and that had told him at least part of the story on why he was here.

Acker was fine, maybe even serviceable, but that side could use some shoring up, especially considering it was Aidan’s blind side.

Ned Johnson, the offensive line coach, showed up a minute later and put the group through their stretches, then some basic drills.

“We’re going to go through a few different formations,” Ned said when they were warmed up. He listed off names, and so far, on both lines, he was on the right side, so Ross could rest easy, at least for now.

They ran some basic plays, getting a feel for each other, Ned standing off to the side, next to the guy that Levi was pretty sure was the offensive coordinator.

“Great pulling move there, Banks,” Ned said, clapping his hands as they finished up the final drill before lunch.

Levi had worked hard in Seattle. He thought he’d been a pretty decent lineman in college, but in the pros, everyone was bigger and faster and just plain better.

He’d had to learn to take his natural skill and his bulk and how to move more aggressively.

In Seattle, they’d had a progression of mobile quarterbacks, and he’d had to adjust on the fly. If they decided to run, Levi was going along for the ride, blocking as they sprinted downfield.

Aidan wasn’t particularly mobile—he hadn’t even been that way when he’d been younger—but he could run. He occasionally did, still. But mostly, he was going to sit back in the pocket and throw his picture-perfect passes.

“That was a really good move,” Griff said to him as they walked into the building for lunch. It was supposedly midday, but the sun was still weak, hiding behind a haze of clouds.

This was definitely way better than sweating his brains out in Charleston or Miami, which was what his two brothers were currently doing.

“Thanks,” Levi said, meeting Griff’s low five.

“I was stoked as shit when I saw the Thunder signed you. You’re gonna really bring some fire to this line.” Griff paused, his expression melting into a more contemplative look. “But what do you think? You glad you came here?”

That was a really fucking good question.

“Uh, yeah, I think so. Don’t know if Acker’s too happy I’m here,” Levi said, glancing around first to make sure that Ross wasn’t in hearing distance.

Griff rolled his eyes. “Don’t let him throw you. He’s just a fucking diva.”

Levi nodded. He’d been around guys like that his whole career. They always thought they were better than they really were. And often that attitude hid the fact they knew they weren’t as good as they pretended to be.

“You played left some in Seattle,” Griff pointed out. “What are you gonna do if they want you to do it here?”

“I just want to keep Flynn’s jersey clean. So if they ask, I’ll do it,” Levi said.

Griff gave him an approving nod. They’d reached the cafeteria, and they split off, Griff heading towards the sandwich station, Levi for the salad bar. He’d spent his offseason bulking up, and now he wanted to make sure he was lean and fast for camp.

As he loaded up his plate, he thought about what Griff had asked—and not for the reason he’d asked.

For half a second yesterday he had worried that he’d chosen wrong, coming to Toronto. Maybe Aidan would never get over his awkwardness, and he’d never be able to slot back into the place he’d always occupied in Levi’s life, comfortable and familiar.

But in the end, Levi thought he’d gotten over his awkwardness, even if Aidan hadn’t exactly slotted back into that previous position. It was just different now, an awareness simmering between them that hadn’t been there before.

Levi wasn’t against them enjoying that low-level simmer all season and then acting on it next summer.

After all, they had promised.

He was still surprised when he headed towards the table Griff and a few of the other linemen had taken and realized that sitting right smack in the middle was Aidan. Wes was next to him.

Levi had seen him today, of course. They’d woken up in the same condo.

He’d seen Aidan shuffle into the kitchen, not much different than he’d been in Michigan, wearing threadbare old shorts and no shirt, his gold chain gleaming dully against the tan skin of his neck, his hair curling wildly around his head.

His eyes had been sleepy when he’d glanced up at Levi.

Maybe the awareness had spiked a little then, going from a simmer to something stronger, but it had calmed back down again as they’d shared Aidan’s car, heading in to the practice facility, joking as Levi had made fun of Aidan’s shitty music choices.

It had been normal enough that he’d told himself that this would all be fine.

But seeing him again, now, hair curling damp under his hat, against his neck, made Levi want to duck down and nibble the tanned curve of it.

“Hey,” he said in as normal a voice as he could manage as he slid down onto the bench seat. “How’s it going?”

He was normal; he could be normal. Levi had never imagined that demanding Aidan tell him what was bothering him would lead to this. And even worse, he’d never imagined that even finding out the truth and offering to have sex with him would churn him up like this.

Sex never had before. Especially sex that he wasn’t currently having.

Aidan shrugged as he chewed around his wrap.

“Really good,” Wes chimed in. “Offense looks good, already.”

Aidan shot him a look.

“What?” Wes said. “It does! Trev, the rookie tight end? He’s got some hands on him.”

“You might know Trevor’s older brother,” Griff said to Levi. “Lane Robinson. Think you played with him in Seattle for a year or two?”

Levi swallowed his bite of chicken and nodded. “Yeah, he’s cool. I didn’t realize he had a brother—”

“It’s a stepbrother,” Wes said. “Trevor’s his stepbrother. And they’re not really close, so like . . .I don’t know, tread carefully.”

Aidan looked put out by this comment. “I told you, I’m not treating anyone with kid gloves.”

“Not individually,” Wes hastened to add, “but you know . . .collectively.”

“Collectively. Seriously?” Aidan set his wrap down.

Levi could see that Aidan was gearing up for one of his big-brother coded lectures, which could be fun—especially if Levi could needle him about it—but he was more curious why Lane and Trevor didn’t get along, so he said, casually, “So what’s the big deal, anyway?

Do these guys not like each other because they’re stepbrothers or what? ”

Griff groaned under his breath. “It’s just stupid. They’re both tight ends. Both on the same team. They should be helping each other, not giving each other shit.”

Levi had been pretty sure he’d like Griff, but now he knew he would.

He and Griff seemed to have similar opinions on things.

Unlike him and Aidan—which made this whole hang-up on Aidan confusing.

Levi shouldn’t care about what he thought, and he hadn’t cared about what he thought. Until now, seemingly, he did.

“For real. My brother Logan and I are always giving each other tips. Trading lineman secrets.” Levi looked over at Aidan, pointedly. “And I know you and Riley do that now, too.”

“Now?” Aidan raised an eyebrow.

“Well, before you were just talking at him. I’m assuming that now that you realize he’s a grown man and a pretty decent QB1 in his own right, you listen, too.”

Aidan had the nerve to almost look ashamed, which then made Levi feel bad for bringing up Riley’s first season, when they hadn’t seen eye to eye.

Back then Aidan had still been determined to control him because of some misplaced idea that Aidan needed to protect him still.

But Riley very clearly didn’t need it, and at least Aidan had realized that.

“Pretty decent?” Wes commented. “Riley Flynn’s more than pretty decent.”

“Watch out, Levi,” Aidan said dryly. “You’ve managed to stumble on a guy who’s even more of a Riley fan than me or Landry.”

“Dude, I didn’t think that possible,” Levi said.

Wes gave a happy sigh. “He’s just . . .ugh. So fucking good.”

“It’s a good thing your ego is so well-developed,” Levi told Aidan, nudging him with his shoulder.

Aidan rolled his eyes. “He also thinks Riley’s hot. Don’t tell Landry.”

“Riley is hot,” Levi said.

Aidan looked half annoyed, half disgusted. “Ugh, really, not you too?”